


Frostbite

by TobiBooneTheSmallSpoone



Category: Blade (Movie Series)
Genre: Ancient History, Blood Rituals, Bondage, Bottom Drake, Dom/sub Play, Drake Frost and La Magra makes Three, Goddess, La Magra is a Female Deity, M/M, Resurrection, Vessels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-05-18 17:45:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14857299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TobiBooneTheSmallSpoone/pseuds/TobiBooneTheSmallSpoone
Summary: Drake resurrects his Maker, La Magra, intent on using the power of the Blood God to begin his vision of a perfect vampiric dynasty. There's just a little hang-up, La Magra needs a vessel and just any old husk won't do.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Been a while since I've written in this fandom but since resurrection is a huge thing in the Blade Movies, feels right. Feels real good. This idea happened when a good friend and I were talking about our favorite bad boys of Blade and well . . . this happened. I regret nothing.

“La Magra.”

Danica looked up from her computer at Drake who stood over her, a sheaf of old papers in his hands,

“What?”

Drake huffed and set the pages down, arranging them on the surface, subsequently knocking several items off much to Danica's chagrin,

“The way I'm going to purge this world of the modern plague that calls themselves 'vampires' and besides that, I can't seem to feed enough to sustain myself.” Drake pointed at one page in particular that was regular printer paper that had line upon line of typing on it.

Danica picked that page up and squinted at it, “Deacon Frost?”

“Some upstart half-blood that got a following apparently,” Drake shrugged, “He was doing research and it seems he met some success and then an untimely demise. La Magra is an ancient entity and a powerful one at that, if we can resurrect it, I can use it.”

“Can you? The legends say it could wipe out any humans it came in contact with and I don't see that being beneficial to us.” Danica cocked an eyebrow as she perused the rest of the pages, they were old writings that made almost no sense to her, the best she could gleen was the basic legend of La Magra.

“Yes, I can and if contained, La Magra is a powerful force and it would behoove us to have all the firepower behind us that we can. I'm barely able to function with how much I have to feed and you lot aren't much better.”

“ . . . I see . . . so, after you've resurrected this ancient god, how do you intent to keep it under control?” Danica sat back in her chair, her hands tapping idly at the desk-top as she tried to contain her excitement at this plan.

“It needs a vessel, something to bind La Magara to and, if the Frost character did everything correctly, we can just pick any vampire to be the vessel, a weak one, certainly, but that might be to our benefit as a more powerful, pureblooded vampire, even by today's standards, might be better suited to wield La Magra against us.” Drake leaned on the desk, tilting his head forward, “And I don't know about _you_ , but contending with a god is a little tricky even on my good days.”

“What about if it does get out of hand and we can't control it?”

“Then we destroy the vessel and try again. A god isn't so easily killed off as the vessel and then La Magra would just go dormant again.” Drake shrugged, “You work out the details about getting us there and I'll worry about La Magra.”

Danica was about to press for more information but Drake turned on his heel and was already making his way to his private rooms. She huffed and glared at the old papers, her eyes narrowing,

“Alright, no problem . . . “

* * *

Drake looked around the dark chamber, he had vague memories of such a place back home, where he was worshiped as a god and temples were constructed for him. Seems the prospect of bringing something like La Magra back from the void had a huge following, and why not? The Vampire gods were few and far between, the children of the night needed something to cling to after their Fathers went into their eternal sleep.

“This place reeks.” Jarko murmured nervously.

Drake smirked, “What's wrong, worm? Don't like the smell of old blood and dust?”

Danica pushed past the massive blonde before he could respond and stood a little apart from Drake, “So, now what?”

Drake cracked his neck and shrugged his jacket and shirt off, “Old blood always responds to something of equal power,” Here he pulled a knife out of the pocket of his leather pants and slid it over his palm, drawing a slim line of scarlet, “La Magra is no different, although I would imagine she will not like being reminded as such.”

“'She'?” Danica blinked but then the drops of blood hit the dias and the air shifted.

Drake squeezed his hand into a fist until a stream of blood dripped from it, he looked around, “I know you're here. Tell me, my powerful Maker, how do I bring you back to me? How do I bring your blood back from dust?”

The air began to fill with a strange hissing sound and a slight draft swirled around them, seeping into their very core. Asher bit his lip and moved to grab Danica's arm and pull her back,

“Something isn't right here.” He murmured.

Drake turned his head from one side to the other as he was gently buffeted by the breeze, he nodded slowly, his eyes closing as if listening to someone whispering in his ear. He nodded again then turned toward the trio of vampires and cocked his head to the side,

“La Magra needs my blood to be resurrected, I would stand back if I were you.”

No sooner were the words out of his mouth then Jarko, Asher, and Danica were hurrying to the relative safety of the tunnels. Drake curled his lip in disgust and shook his head,

“Forgive them, they are stupid and cowardly.” He muttered to the temple at large then he turned and held the knife in both hands.

Drake hesitated for a brief moment, no matter how long it had been since he was first turned, he always felt the flutterings of his mortality just on the edge of his conscious mind and now was no different as he prepared to plunge the short blade into the center of the scar-glyph on his chest. He took a grounding breath, clenched his jaw and drove the knife up to its hilt into his chest, growling once the blade pulled back and a gush of blood gushed onto the stones but it seemed to do its good work.

The air suddenly became electrified and the stones themselves seemed to hum as the wind caught the flecks of Drake's blood and began to spin into a vortex. Drake panted and fell to his knee as a geyser of blood was being coaxed from his chest by the old magic. He growled and pressed his hand to the wound only for it to be blown back, his arms forced out at his sides and held by some invisible force, he roared angrily as blood was siphoned out of him until the vortex was saturated and he felt weak, his heart beating sluggishly in his chest when he was finally released. Drake fell to the floor, breathing heavily for a moment before he slowly lifted his head and stared at the formless bloody mass as it began to slowly gather itself and then he could make out the vague shape of a person.

Drake shakily pulled himself up onto his knees and stared at the humanoid, “La Magra.”

The blood god hissed, the featureless being slowly shifted to kneel in front of Drake, “I . . . live . . . again . . . ?“

“Yes.” Drake murmured, staring longingly at his creator, his god, his everything, “Once more.”

La Magra shifted, “Tell me, child of my blood, what do you want with me? It has been so long since I felt your presence after our sleep, I would not think you are here simply to visit?”

Drake was quiet for a moment, “You were summoned not long ago, by an insect that became your vessel-”

“I remember it well, child, the one called 'Frost' was a good vessel, short-lived as he was, but he was overflowing with ambition and a yearning for power.” La Magra's smooth face rippled and hissed with a rasping laugh.

“You speak highly of such a low creature, I am surprised.” Drake furrowed his brow.

La Magra laughed again, shaking its head, “Frost was the best I could hope for in this day and age, the ones that once suckled from my altar's well are no more, you are the last of my children to survive. The ones that call themselves 'vampires' are horribly inadequate.”

La Magra reached out and stroked tendrils over Drake's cheek, Drake leaned into the feather-light touch,

“I can bring you a new vessel, you can have your ch-”

“No, my last vessel will suffice.” La Magra slowly got to its feet.

Drake blinked, “Your last-? It was destroyed.”

La Magra's surface rippled and then began to recede and it fell forward, the scarlet of the blood giving way to pale flesh, the face began to have features, hair, and finally crouching in front of Drake was a trembling man . . . a vampire . . . Drake stared at the chosen vessel of his master, Deacon Frost.

Deacon slowly lifted his head, he was cold, pale, and naked, red eyes beholding Drake for the first time and the ancient vampire could see the terror take over confusion as those blood-colored orbs went from Drake's face to the glyph on his chest.

“Dracula . . . “ He whispered.

Drake slowly got to his feet, he stared at the vampire, it had been a long time since his master had a vessel, taking on its liquid-like form most of the time. Generally La Magra preferred female vessels, their seductive forms and wiles suiting the blood god so Drake was hardly surprised that this vessel, while male in every way, was slight, delicate looking . . . and making Drake feel jealous and angry.

“You are the one called Frost?” Drake asked, picking his knife up and sheathing it, ignoring the wound on his chest.

“Deacon Frost, yes.” Deacon struggled to his feet only to falter and almost topple over but Drake managed to get hold of the smaller male's upper arm and keep him upright.

“Hm.” Drake narrowed his eyes at Deacon and pulled him closer, “And you are the one La Magra chose to be the vessel? Has she lost her mind . . . ?”

“'She'?” Deacon blinked woozily up at Drake.

“La Magra is a female entity and yet here you are.” Drake grumbled, he could smell La Magra's distinct scent under the cold, dead stink of the pale vampire.

Deacon looked offended for a moment then he heaved and shuddered, “The fuck is happening?”

“Never been resurrected before, have you? Your body is trying to adjust.” Drake huffed and picked Deacon up despite the smaller male's squawk of protest, carrying him off the dias and to where Danica and her lackies were still huddling, “Get up, we're leaving, we have what we came here for.”

Danica cocked an eyebrow at the shivering Deacon, “ _That's_ La Magra?”

“This is the vessel, La Magra is just below the surface.” Drake explained, “We need to seal her into Frost to keep him from being destroyed from the possession over a long period of time.”

“What are you talking about?” Deacon snarled, trying to get out of Drake's grasp but he might as well have been pushing on stone for all the good it did him as he was carried out of the temple to the surface where Danica's entourage was waiting for them.

Drake bundled Deacon into the backseat of a van with him while Danica barked orders at people. Deacon pushed as far from Drake as he could, staring at the big vampire suspiciously,

“You're actually Dracula then?”

“Just Drake now, but yes.” Drake muttered, glancing at Deacon.

“And these guys are . . . ?” Deacon gestured out of the tinted window to Danica as the caravan of vehicles began to pull away.

“Not your concern.” Drake stared at Deacon's chest, he would have to mark the smaller vampire if he ever hoped to keep La Magra under control.

Deacon followed Drake's gaze then slowly looked back up at him, “Whatssamatter, big fella? See something you like?”

Drake blinked at Deacon, at those eyes that were so familiar to him even though they stared out at Drake from a face he had never seen before. He could sense La Magra just below the surface, coiling and writhing just under Deacon's skin, so close to his dearest friend and lover, the last thing on this plane that made any sense or mattered at all to him. Drake smirked, leaning closer to Deacon, the brunette flinched and quickly pulled away, pressing into the car door,

“And if I do? La Magra and I have a long, _passionate_ history, Frost, what's to stop her from coming to the fore and reigniting that flame?” Drake smiled as Deacon's eyes flitted about in terror at the prospect, “Or perhaps you want it for yourself? Does my body please your eye, Frost? The thought of my beating heart and hot, dark blood a mere bite away?”

Deacon's pale face became stony and he glared at Drake, “Shut up . . . “

Drake chuckled darkly, his fingers darting out to stroke a hand up Deacon's thigh, only for it to be smacked away but Drake smiled, showing his fangs as he moved closer, crowding Deacon's space,

“ _La Magra_ . . . didn't you _miss_ me?”

Deacon's scarlet eyes grew heavy and he growled, but his legs fell open revealing that he was in fact interested, but then Drake conceded that it might just be the blood god rising to the surface, evidenced by the slight flush to Frost's skin. Drake smiled, it didn't matter, whether it was Deacon submitting or La Magra pushing to the foreground, he didn't care. He wanted to dominate this one, he wanted control and he was going to get it, Drake dropped his hand down to push Deacon's leg back and pull the smaller man under him. Deacon put up the most futile resistance, his hands pressed against Drake's chest but what started as a defiant shove turned into him curiously squeezing the muscles.

Deacon growled, his red eyes gleaming and when he spoke it had a distinct hiss to it, “You forget your place, Dracula!”

“No, I have not forgotten,” Drake murmured, kissing a burning line along Deacon's carotid, “I'm the stronger of the two of us now, that is all.”

“I will not allow such disrespect! I am your maker! I created you and fed you on my own blood! I-” Deacon squealed angrily and clawed at Drake as the bigger vampire crushed his mouth in a rough kiss while the hand that wasn't holding Deacon down shot between his pale thighs to stroke over an already-leaking erection.

Deacon dug his claws into Drake's shoulders then moaned loudly, breaking the kiss and thrashing, “No! No, you vile traitor! You-”

“Relax, La Magra, let me have this moment.” Drake growled as his hand went lower, pressing against Deacon's tight hole.

Deacon's eyes widened and he struggled then blinked several times, he stared at Drake and the ancient vampire could see that La Magra had retreated to the relative safety of Frost's subconscious. The pale vampire bit his lip and panted,

“The fuck just happened? What are you d- oh!” Deacon's muscles spasmed and he made a loud keening sound while Drake ducked his head and bit Deacon's neck.

Drake drank deeply, he could taste La Magra and then just barely caught a hint of Deacon's own blood at the tail-end of each swallow. Deacon struggled and fought as he was fed from, gritting his fangs but after a time he relaxed into Drake, whimpering,

“S-Stop . . . stop . . . please . . . “ Deacon panted, “I'm gonna fucking pass out!”

Drake sat back and wiped his mouth, looking down to see the puncture wound in his chest rapidly sealing and the color returning to his flesh,

“There, that's better.”

Deacon trembled and looked exhausted, Drake blinked at the small thing then he held out a hand,

“Come here.”

Deacon glared at Drake, “Fuck you.”

“You're tired, cold, and hungry, I can help with the first two and once we get back you can feed. It will take more than a few mere moments after resurrection for La Magra to become comfortable enough to submit to me.” Drake gestured impatiently for Deacon to come closer.

Deacon bore his teeth angrily, “What do you mean by that?”

“I'm going to fuck you.” Drake shrugged.

Deacon's cheeks turned pink and he stared at Drake, “What?”

“It's a game she and I play, La Magra is predictable as always, she doesn't like her new vessels to be so easily dominated, by me at least. And when she is finally happy with what she has, she'll want to . . . put me in my place.” Drake smirked, glancing at Deacon's erection, “Something tells me you would very much enjoy that.”

Deacon blinked at Drake then slowly started to scoot closer until he was pressed against Drake's side, the older vampire smiled and slid his arm around Deacon, pulling Frost up onto his lap much to the smaller man's irritation but Drake didn't care. He could feel, hear and smell La Magra just beneath Deacon's skin and it was comforting on a level he refused to acknowledge or give a name to.

There was silence as the SUV sped along the road, Deacon curled into Drake, his eyes becoming heavy and Drake found himself gently stroking his fingers over Deacon's body, his back, his shoulders, arm, hair, any inch of skin he could find to better familiarize himself with his master's new vessel . . . all the better to please all three of them.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Drake watched Deacon sleeping in the massive bed from his seat in the corner, they were in Drake's personal chambers, or at least the one's he kicked Danica out of. La Magra was enjoying itself, teasing Drake like this, toying with him . . . he would have his way, it was only a matter of being patient and Drake had an infinite supply of patience. He'd allowed Deacon to glut himself on familiars for some time once they'd arrived back at headquarters, had to drag Deacon off one to stop him from killing them, actually, then he'd passed out.

Frost stirred then slowly opened his scarlet eyes and sat up, he blinked around until he saw Drake and he huffed,

“Oh, it's you.”

Drake allowed the corner of his mouth to quirk up in a slight smile, “Yes, it's me.”

Deacon shifted, apparently at that moment he realized he was still naked, “Give me some clothes.”

“No. I prefer you as you are.”

Deacon glared at Drake, flinging the duvet back and swinging his legs over the side of the bed, “Faggot.”

Drake stared at him, “Hm? I was unaware that I resembled a bundle of twigs.”

Deacon groaned, taking long steps across the room and glaring at Drake over his shoulder, “Jesus, how old are you anyway?”

“6,292, give or take a few years.” Drake said softly, his eyes trained on Deacon as the pale vampire started rooting around in various dresser drawers.

There was a pause and Deacon slowly turned to Drake, “ . . . you're serious, aren't you? You don't understand me when I'm insulting you.”

“Sit down, Frost, we have things to discuss.”

“After I find some pants.”

Drake stood up, he strode across the room and towered over Deacon, his massive hand coming down on Frost's shoulder,

“Now.”

Deacon glared up at Drake and shoved his hand off, “Fuck you, I want pants!”

Drake cocked his head to the side, he was not used to being defied so much, especially considering this was the vessel talking and not La Magra. He had to rein in his temper for a moment so as not to damage Deacon, he had plans . . . big plans . . . He sighed heavily, moved around Deacon and opened one of the drawers on the dresser in the corner, pulling a pair of slacks out that were not his and threw them at Deacon.

Deacon caught them and huffed, “Thanks.”

Drake watched him carefully dress then he pointed at the bed, “Sit down.”

Deacon narrowed his eyes and brushed past Drake, taking the other vampire's chair in the corner, putting his arms comfortably on the rests and crossing his ankle over a knee,

“I'm listening.” Deacon cocked his head to the side and regarded Drake with a strangely irritated look on his face.

Drake chuckled, he liked this one, it had a spark to it, “You are going to be a tough one to break . . . I can see why she's so fond of you.”

Deacon snorted, “So, I'm La Magra now? Why aren't you worshiping me?”

Drake's laugh rang through the halls and after a few moments he settled and wiped mirth-tears out of his eyes, “You are very amusing! What gave you such ridiculous ideas?”

Deacon put his foot down and leaned forward, gripping the armrests tightly, “I'm a god now, aren't I? So bow down or whatever!”

Drake smirked at Deacon, “You are not a god, little one, you are a mere vessel to La Magra, not La Magra itself and I do not worship La Magra, I am its firstborn son, its equal in many aspects.”

“I don't understand, La Magra was supposed to make me a god!”

“You clearly misread the writings then, La Magra doesn't make gods, it makes vampires and you are merely the vessel she chose. Odd that she would want a male vessel but I won't complain,” Drake moved closer, bending to be eye-level with Deacon, he reached a hand out and stroked it over Deacon's stubbly jaw, “You are rather lovely.”

Deacon pulled back with a hiss, “So what's the point of being the vessel? I'm just everybody's butt-boy or what?”

Drake smirked at the implication and straightened up, “La Magra is giving you power, making you stronger, faster, more powerful than any vampire alive today besides myself. And I'm hoping that with my own blood and La Magra's, I'll be able to revive the vampiric race to its former glory.”

Deacon frowned and shifted, “ . . . And where does that put me?”

“I'm going to seal La Magra into your being, otherwise you would soon perish from all that raw energy or did you skip that part in the writings as well?” Drake smirked knowingly.

Deacon blinked, “I might have skimmed over some of the details.”

“Clearly.” Drake nodded, turning around.

“So how are you going to seal it? Some kind of ritual or something?” Deacon stood up, moving to be in Drake's line of sight again.

Drake tapped the glyph on his chest, “Old blood and magic. Think this glyph is just a fancy marking? No, it's a powerful sealing charm.”

“I have a mark already,  _my_  mark!” Deacon pointed to his forearm so Drake could see a glyph tattooed into the pale skin.

Drake snorted, “Now you'll bear mine.”

Deacon snarled, “No, I  _won't_. I worked too damn long and hard for what little I've managed to scrape up and I'm not letting you take that from me!”

Drake's face became stony as he regarded the smaller man, breathing heavily through his nose, “You seem to think I'm letting you have a say in this. I'm not. You will do as I say whether you like it or not.”

Deacon stepped up to Drake, glaring up at him, his hands clenched into fists, “Fuck you.”

Drake smiled, “In time but you have to behave and-”

The punch wasn't unexpected or surprising and Drake was actually more disappointed that Deacon had waited to attack him this long. Drake found a bit of satisfaction at the stunned look on Deacon's face as the bigger vampire held Deacon's smaller fist tightly after intercepting it, squeezing until Deacon was forced to his knees, scrabbling with his other hand at Drake's to try and get free.

Drake cocked his head to the side and stared at Deacon, watching him squirm and grunt in pain, “You will learn very quickly that I can tolerate a great deal, look at the fools I work with, but if you insist on making our lives more difficult out of spite then I promise you, I can make your experiences as the vessel a living hell. I know a great many tortures designed to break the will and I will implement them if you're going to continue to be a disobedient brat. Am I understood?”

“Yes! Alright? Fucking  _yes_ , let me go before my hand breaks!” Deacon gasped, punching Drake's thigh desperately with his free hand when it became obvious that he couldn't pry Drake's fingers open.

Drake smiled and released Deacon's hand, feeling quite pleased as the small vampire cradled the bruised appendage to his chest and glared fiery hatred at him.

“Excellent. Now the glyph has to be done a certain way or it won't take.” Drake brushed his fingers over Deacon's hair, the brunette pulled back and snarled at him, “And it won't be pleasant.”

Deacon snorted, “I've had tattoos before, it's not that big a deal.”

“This won't be a tattoo, Frost, it will be a branding.” Drake headed for the door.

“You're gonna- ? No! I'm not doing tha-”

Drake was across the room with his hand gripping Deacon's throat before he could finish, “Remember what I said, little one, about being a disobedient brat? Or is your memory that short?”

Deacon struggled then went limp, “Alright, alright, let me go!”

Drake dropped him and smiled, patting Deacon's cheek before heading to the door, “Good boy.”

* * *

Deacon tapped his fingers on the railing as he checked out the little part of Danica's penthouse that he was allowed in (apparently no one trusted him enough to let him out of the main living areas), Drake leaned back watching the smaller vampire explore before Frost finally groaned and tilted his head back agitatedly,

“You don't  _have_ to follow me everywhere, you know? I can't leave the floor without everyone knowing.”

Drake pushed off the wall and walked over to Deacon, inclining his head, “I'm not following you.”

“You've been a few steps behind me this entire morning, I'd call that 'following'.” Deacon looked up at Drake exhaustedly.

Drake shook his head, “I'm observing you, very different. I don't think you'll try and run away, La Magra would stop you, I just like watching you.”

Deacon blinked, wrinkling his nose in confusion, “Why?”

“Because you're her vessel.” Drake shrugged, “And you're pretty.”

Deacon blinked, cheeks reddening, he snorted and leaned back, “If you think I'm gonna let you fuck me because he say nice things, you're incredibly wrong.”

Drake chuckled, “I know you want me, Frost, you're not as composed as you think.”

“Fuck off, old man,” Deacon snarled, “I'm hungry.”

Drake smirked, holding out his hand, “Let's get you something to eat then.”

Deacon stared at Drake's hand then brushed past him, “I can get it myself.”

Drake sighed, turning to follow after the shorter vampire, “You are remarkably stubborn.”

“Yeah, I'm told it's one of my charms.” Deacon muttered, stalking down the stairs toward the rooms where Familiars hung out.

Drake fell in step easily, putting a hand lightly on the small of Deacon's back, stroking the soft white cotton of his shirt, “Indeed.”

Deacon stopped and gave Drake a push, “Let's get one thing straight- No, a  _couple_ things straight, Drake, I  _don't_  want you. And even if I  _did_  , I'm not gonna just let you put your hands all over me like you own me! So back off!”

Drake stared at Deacon for a moment then smiled,  _Patience,_ he reminded himself,  _Give the little one time, he wants you . . . he wants to feel your touch . . . just has a hard time admitting it._

“You got something to say, big guy?” Deacon challenged.

“No. Whatever you want, Frost.” Drake shrugged and walked past Deacon only for Frost to grab hold of his arm and pull him back, “Yes?”

“I-I'm not finished!”

“Alright, what else do you want?” Drake cocked his head back and smiled, he was going to get his way.

“ . . . “ Deacon stared up at Drake then he furrowed his brow, “ . . . Why do I hurt?”

Drake gently put a hand on Deacon's side, stepping closer, “That's what's going to keep happening if you don't allow me to seal La Magra in you. Your body is starting to succumb.”

Deacon blinked then faltered, his knees buckling, “Hah! Ngh! Fuck! The hell?”

Drake quickly moved closer, picking Deacon up, “It's alright, I've got you.”

Deacon shifted then pressed against Drake, his teeth clenched, “Oh fucking  _Christ_ why does it hurt?”

“I told you, your body-”

“I get it!” Deacon snapped, glaring up at Drake then he shuddered, “I get it! Just-Just make it stop!”

Drake smiled, adjusting Deacon's weight and nuzzling the top of his head, “Thought you would  _never_ ask.”

* * *

Deacon pulled on the chains angrily, his naked body was stretched on the bed, hands and feet chained to the bedposts, his scarlet eyes burning above the gag in his mouth as he watched Drake heating the branding iron.

“It will be painful but don't worry, it will be for only a moment or two.” Drake's eyes looked fiery in the dim light from the brazier he'd set up.

Deacon watched the red-hot glowing brand as Drake removed it from the fire and slowly carried it around, Frost's eyes widened and his stomach jumped as he breathed faster through his nose, he tried talking around the gag but Drake wasn't even paying attention as he pressed one hand to Deacon's side, sliding his thumb and fingers over the edge of Deacon's ribcage and up to one of his nipples, stroking it lightly before lifting the brand, holding it steady to line it up properly then pressing it down on Deacon's flesh.

Deacon arched his back and screamed in pain, the smell of burned flesh and hair filling Drake's sensitive nostrils then the brand was pulled away and Deacon collapsed, panting and squeezing his eyes tightly closed while Drake cut his palm, letting it bleed a bit then pressing it against the rapidly sealing brand.

There was a loud shrieking sound as La Magra was forced back, she writhed and fought but Drake could feel he was winning, then as soon as the shrieking started, it stopped and Deacon lay perfectly still, his blood-red eyes staring up at Drake.

Drake smiled, dropping the branding iron to the floor and climbing onto the bed, settling between Deacon's thighs, “Feel better? Stronger, clearer perhaps?”

Deacon swallowed thickly and nodded, his eyes swimming, “Mmhhmph mph hm.”

Drake leaned forward, putting his hands on either side of Deacon's head, “Hm? I didn't quite catch that.”

Deacon closed his eyes and shook his head, “Phmph hmph! Mrrgh! Mmd mph mh mph hmph!”

Drake reached up to pull the gag out, “You wanted to say something?”

“I said, fuck off!” Deacon snapped, his eyes still closed and he swallowed again, “Fuck!”

Drake grimaced and ran his fingers around the edge of the brand, “I'm sorry, I know it's painful.”

Deacon opened his scarlet eyes to glare at Drake, “You don't give a fuck, stop pretending.”

Drake blinked at Deacon, “My feelings are sincere.”

“Bullshit! You only give a fuck about me because I'm Magra's vessel or whatever!” Deacon snarled, pulling on the chains, “You're like everyone else, vampires don't care about anyone but themselves!”

Drake stared at Deacon then sighed, glancing off to the side, “While it is true that you wouldn't be here if La Magra didn't want you, that should speak for itself. She saw something in you that she valued, something special and worthwhile, I want to know that too. Whatever it is, I want it.”

“Yeah, you want _it_. Not me.” Deacon rolled his eyes, “So just fuck me or whatever you intend to do and let me go.”

Drake shook his head, leaning up to kiss Deacon's jaw, working his way from ear to ear then back to Deacon's mouth, his tongue extending to flick over Deacon's pursed lips,

“Why do you fight me? I know how to hurt, but I also know how to please.” Drake whispered against Deacon's pale lips.

Deacon snorted, “Sure you do.”

“I do.”

Drake started to retreat, licking the edge of the brand lightly before kissing down Deacon's midline, taking a moment to lave his tongue into Frost's navel then down to the stirrings of an erection Frost had. Deacon watched, his neck craning to see as Drake kissed and licked the length of his cock then pulled the head into his mouth. The pale vampire grunted and shifted in his chains,

“What're you- oh,  _fuck_!”

Drake chuckled around Deacon's prick as he pulled it fully into his mouth, looking up through his eyelashes to see Deacon's head flop back onto the pillows before lifting to watch more, groaning louder when his cock popped out of Drake's mouth and the big vampire moved lower to pull first one then both of Deacon's balls into his mouth.

“Oh my fucking-! Jesus-!” Deacon pulled on the chains and writhed, “Will you hurry up and fuck me?”

Drake sat up, tilting his head to the side as he shed his clothes, “Who said I was going to fuck you?”

Deacon rolled his eyes, “You're obviously going to do it, what better time then when you have me all tied up and helpless?”

Drake tilted his head one way then the other as if thinking about it, “True, I could just fuck you and call it a night, but . . . “ He smiled, leaning forward as he pulled his tight leather pants down over his knees then off, “I think you would enjoy fucking me more.”

Deacon blinked in confusion as Drake crawled over Deacon to straddle his waist, “Uh,  _what_?”

Drake smiled, stroking his own burgeoning erection, “Wouldn't you like to do that, Deacon? Make me fuck myself on your cock while you watch?”

Deacon narrowed his eyes, licking his lips slightly, “Yeah, I would like that. Know what else I'd like?”

Drake tilted his head back, spreading his knees further as he stroked himself, “What?”

“You not being allowed to come.”

Drake opened an eye and cocked an eyebrow, “Oh?”

“Yeah, you don't get to come.” Deacon shifted, lifting his head, “Or prep.”

Drake stared at Deacon then smiled, “You're a sadistic little whore . . . I like it.”

Drake got off Deacon and went to the dresser, rifling about then coming back with a chastity cage in his hands, he carefully squeezed off his erection then fit the cage over it, slipping his balls into the ring and locked it, setting the keys on the end table next to the bed upon returning. He climbed back onto the bed and stroked Deacon's cock,

“No prepping?”

“None.” Deacon growled, “Hurry up.”

“I can imagine you'd like to flog me next time? I always enjoy that.” Drake smiled, getting into position and holding Deacon's cock firmly while lowering himself.

Deacon watched with hooded eyes as Drake struggled to sheath Deacon's cock in his asshole, “Fuck, you're  _tight_.”

“Haven't had a cock up there in a few thousand years,” Drake admitted, “Well . . . Danica likes fucking me sometimes bu- Hrgh!”

Drake grit his teeth and drew in a sharp breath as he finally got Deacon inside, Deacon groaned, arching his back and pushing his head back into the pillows,

“Shit! Oh my god!”

Drake shifted to adjust but Deacon growled, bucking his hips,

“No, you don't get to rest, get to it!”

Drake panted, his eyes watering as he started to roll his hips back onto Deacon,

“H-Hah! It's not that ea-”

“No talking either,” Deacon snarled and thrust his hips suddenly, breaking Drake's rhythm and making the big vampire grunt, “Slut.”

Drake blinked at Deacon and smirked, “I like it when you call me that.”

Deacon watched with great satisfaction as Drake fucked himself, blood dripping down Deacon's shaft, after a setting a grueling pace for himself, Drake panted, looking blearily at Deacon,

“You're taking too long.”

“Maybe I'm just enjoying the view. And I thought I said no talking?” Deacon murmured, his fingers twitching, “what's the matter, big boy? You wanna come?”

Drake fixed Deacon with a look then picked up the speed, planting his feet on the mattress up by Deacon's armpits and leaning back on his hands, Deacon groaned then howled as he started coming. Drake panted in relief and relaxed, sitting down on Deacon. It was a strangely comforting thing to feel Deacon's seed filling him.

Drake pulled off after Deacon softened and moved to undo the chains, Deacon flopped onto his side, eyes almost closed and he ran his fingers over the new glyph burned into his chest,

“ . . . that was good. I'll admit, you know what you're doing, been fucked by a lot of dudes, have you?”

Drake didn't respond and stretched out on his stomach, relaxing the muscles in his back and legs, Deacon sat up a bit, rolling his shoulders and neck, he glanced at Drake's ass and grimaced,

“Oh . . . _shit_ , I did a number on you . . . are you . . . okay?”

Drake blinked up at Deacon tiredly, “I'm fine.”

Deacon stared at Drake, almost feeling guilty for a second, “Shouldn't we have a safe word or something?”

“A safe word?” Drake shifted to adjust his still-caged cock and balls.

“Yeah, like when what we're doing gets too intense and you want to stop.” Deacon shrugged, “Or if I want to stop.”

“Why would we want to stop?” Drake reached over for the keys and released his genitals, sighing in relief then lying back down.

Deacon shrugged, “Didn't that hurt? A lot?”

“Yes. I'm not understanding the correlation.” Drake folded his arms under his head.

“ . . . Didn't you want to stop?”

“Maybe, but you told me to do it so I did.” Drake blinked tiredly.

Deacon shifted, “Alright . . . “

Drake was about to close his eyes to sleep for a bit before showering and perhaps jacking off when he felt the mattress dipping and Deacon was kneeling between Drake's legs,

“What are you doing?”

“You're a mess and you're bleeding.” Deacon muttered then he dipped down and started licking around and in Drake's gaping asshole.

Drake's eyes widened in surprise then he sighed, getting up on his knees, “Mhh . . . that feels nice . . . “

Deacon reached around and stroked Drake's cock, not deeming to comment as he quickly cleaned Drake off, tasting his own cum and Drake's blood, his sweet, rich, dark blood . . . Drake moaned softly into the pillows and his hips twitched, coming onto the sheets.

Deacon sat back then crawled up to lie on his back next to Drake, “You came in like . . . two seconds.”

“I have incredible stamina,” Drake defended, “I was already fighting an erection from before and . . . I liked what you were doing.”

“Slut.” Deacon mumbled then he hissed angrily, Drake pulled him close again and nuzzled his cheek, “Knock it off, you faggot!”

“I like women and men so I'm not a faggot. Thought I wouldn't deem to find out what that meant, didn't you?” Drake murmured, kissing Deacon's temple, “Let me hold you.”

“I don't want to be held!” Deacon snarled then he sighed and begrudgingly turned into Drake, “You are . . . incredibly stupid, ugly and very warm.”

“I'm neither of the former.” Drake murmured, holding Deacon tightly, tucking the smaller, colder vampire under his chin, “You can relax, no one would dare hurt you while I'm here.”

“I'm not helpless.” Deacon muttered, closing his eyes.

“I know you aren't, but you still like being taken care of, don't you, Deacon?”

“Fuck you.”

“You already did that, best to wait a while before a second round.”

“ . . . you smell bad too.”

Drake chuckled, “Shh, little one, quiet your rampant mouth for once and stop trying to have the last word.”

Drake was just about to fall asleep when he heard a soft 'no'.


	3. Chapter 3

Drake was lounging with Danica stretched out on his stomach, her naked, lithe body cold and smooth like marble, he smiled to himself as the sun streamed through the tinted glass of the windows,

“Are you going to come in, Snowflake?”

“If you fucking call me that one more time-”

“You'll _what_ exactly?” Drake lolled his head to the side, smirking at Deacon, regarding the fuming brunette coolly as he idly ran his fingertips over the sleeping Danica's shoulders.

Deacon narrowed his eyes and glanced up at the tall glass walls, “ . . . fuck you.”

“Later, little one,” Drake murmured, closing his eyes and stretching over the back of the sofa he occupied, his naked body shivering slightly before he relaxed again, “I'm busy at the moment.”

“Doing what, exactly?” Deacon sneered, moving into the room, eyeing Danica derisively.

“Enjoying post-coitus lounging.” Drake murmured, opening one eye slightly.

Deacon visibly stiffened, glaring at Drake who simply tilted his head curiously,

“Jealous, are you?”

Deacon's jaw tightened and he shrugged one shoulder, “No.”

“Liar.” Drake murmured, closing his eyes again, “If I were you, I wouldn't take it personally and realize that I am not so important or interesting to hold attention at all times.”

Drake felt the air ripple the split second before Deacon's fist _might_ have made contact with bigger vampire's face but he intercepted it, upending Danica who grumbled and sat back on the sofa to regard the two in feigned disinterest.

“That,” Drake said softly looking at Deacon who's scarlet eyes were practically glowing, “Was incredibly inadvisable.”

“If you two are going to fuck on the couch, I'd like to know ahead of time.” Danica murmured, leaning back in the cushions and smirking, “I'd have prepared something spe-”

“Shut up!” Deacon snapped, still trying to wrest his fist out of Drake's grasp.

Drake stood and leaned forward, “Regardless of Danica's interest in watching us fuck, there are better ways of getting my attention, Frost.”

Deacon narrowed his eyes and breathed out sharply through his nose, “What makes you think I _want_ your attention?”

Drake cocked an eyebrow and jerked his chin down, “That might be a good indicator.”

Deacon glared down at his crotch were an all-too-obvious bulge resided, Danica chuckled from the couch,

“You have impeccable taste, Drake, are all your whores so easily aroused?”

Drake smirked, looking over his shoulder at her, “I don't know, are _you_?”

He let Deacon go and went to sit back on the couch, watching as Danica crawled over so she could perch on one of his thick thighs, his hand brushed over her lower back and he smiled as he watched Deacon massaging his hand, his red eyes still mere slits,

“Are you _that_ offended that I have sex with more than just you?”

“No, just surprised you like Hot Topic rejects.” Deacon shrugged, trying to be nonchalant but he failed miserably.

Drake's smile shifted slightly and he let his hand trail up to reach around and tweak Danica's nipple lightly making her shiver. He patted his open thigh with his free hand, eyes still focused on Deacon,

“Take your clothes off and sit with me.” He purred, letting his gaze drag up Deacon's body until he saw the smaller vampire shift his weight.

“What if I don't want to?” Deacon growled.

“You keep acting as if you don't enjoy me, why is that?” Drake murmured, eyes settling on Deacon's for a moment before he turned and finally paid attention to what Danica was doing with her mouth on his neck and shoulder, her fangs grazing his skin lightly while her hand was doing some marvelous things to his cock, “Leave us for a moment, Danica.”

Danica made a disgruntled sound against his skin then she briskly got up, taking Drake's clothes before turning and leaving. Drake watched her leave then turned to Deacon who was still dressed and glowering after Danica,

“Why don't you like her? She's been nothing but hospitable to-”

“I'm not allowed to leave the fucking penthouse.” Deacon spat, turning to lean on the window, glaring at the sunny streets.

“It's daytime, Snowflake, you would melt.” Drake murmured, spreading his arms back across the top of the sofa.

He almost laughed when he caught the soft sound of Deacon grinding his teeth.

“I know that _now_ it's daytime, you fucking idiot, I mean even at _night_ I'm not allowed to leave!” Deacon snapped, pressing his arm against the glass above his head with his fist clenched, resting his forehead on the window.

“What is out there that you could possibly want?” Drake stood up and strode over to stand directly behind Deacon, pressing lightly into the smaller vampire's back, leaning his head down to scent Deacon's neck lightly.

“Won't know until I go looking, now will I?” Deacon jerked his head away irritably and kept glaring out the glass.

Drake huffed, “You are impossible. There's plenty of food and sex here, anything else can be bought and paid for if you ask for it. Or is that why you're so upset, hm? You have to ask for what you want?”

Deacon didn't answer but Drake could almost hear Frost's eyes roll, Drake chuckled,

“That's it then?”

“Shut up.”

“Come, Snowflake, you can tell m-”

Deacon was suddenly not in front of him and Drake was so caught off-guard that he fell a bit forward into glass, smacking his nose off it. He grunted and turned around, seeing Deacon perched on the sofa glaring at him,

“Learning to move properly, are we?”

Deacon shrugged, “Figured out I'm actually faster than you.”

“I wouldn't count on tha-”

Deacon shot off the sofa, a mere blur of movement before grabbing Drake's wrists and slamming them back against the window. Drake cocked an eyebrow and smiled, Deacon snarled and brought his knee up into Drake's groin, knocking the wind out of the bigger vampire and making him double-over. Deacon shot back and was opening his mouth for what Drake was sure was some quip, but he didn't let Deacon even draw in a breath to speak before he barreled into Frost and threw them both back into the sofa.

“I'm gonna rip your cock off and make you grow it back!” Drake roared, slamming his fist into Deacon's chest until his sternum broke with a loud crunch.

Deacon squealed in pain and tried to roll over and flee, he managed to claw his way halfway over the sofa until Drake grabbed his belt and ripped it and the back of his jeans off. Drake kept one hand fisted in the shreds of Deacon's clothes while the other reached up for Frost's hair and wrenched him back. Unfortunately they toppled back off the sofa and into the glass coffee table, shattering it and Drake roared angrily as several shards lodged into his back.

He let Deacon go and the brunette quickly scrambled away, clutching at his chest but his bones had already mended, he glared at Drake then grimaced as the big vampire gingerly sat up, his back full of glass slivers, Drake growled at Deacon,

“You know, you could _try_ and talk to me instead of trying to kill me every time we're in the same room.”

Deacon blinked at Drake and looked around before squatting down and picking a small piece of glass out of Drake's cheek,

“You started it.”

“ _I beg your fucking pardon_?” Drake snarled, his lip curling back over his fangs.

“Acting like I'm one of your whores,” Deacon snapped, “I'm _no one's_ whore, got it?”

“I didn't call you a whore!” Drake snarled, his face shifting slightly, eyes flashing.

“You-” Deacon blinked then looked off to the side.

“Exactly.” Drake snarled, reaching back to try and pull some of the glass out, “You take offense at every little thing and won't tell me what's really bothering you then you get angry and attack me. How is this supposed to make either of our lives easier when I can tell all you want is to fuck me until I can't walk but you get angry and throw walls up every time I try? Or throw me _into_ a wall . . . And you can do away with being a jealous little bitch, I know you've had multiple partners at once before so I fail to see how this would be different. Or is it only _you_ that's allowed to fuck whoever you please and the rest of us better just fall in line?”

Deacon didn't say anything in favor of helping Drake pick glass out of his back, Drake let him for a few minutes in silence then grabbed Deacon's hand,

“An answer would be appreciated, Frost.”

Deacon shook his head slightly and grunted, taking his hand back, “I don't like you.”

“Lies, but continue.” Drake grumbled, standing up, checking to make sure he didn't have glass in more sensitive places.

“Don't get me wrong, you're a good lay and occasionally you have something interesting to say, but for the most part, I _don't_ like you.” Deacon continued, also standing, “That's all there is to it.”

“Oh really?” Drake cocked an eyebrow and looked around then huffed when he realized that Danica had taken _all_ of his clothes and left just her dress and heels behind. He grumbled and headed for his room with Deacon trailing behind, “Would you like to hear _my_ summary of events?”

Deacon snorted and leaned on the doorway as Drake pulled a fresh pair of pants and a shirt out, “Sure, why not. Let's here what you see in your infinite wis-”

“You're upset at not being the one getting his feet kissed by terrified underlings.” Drake turned and tilted his head, frowning unamused at Frost.

Deacon blinked and narrowed his eyes, “Oh?”

“Yes, you like being the man on top, you like the power and control, it gets you hard and now you aren't, in charge I mean. You're frustrated at being a kept and caged asset instead of the boss. You don't like admitting enjoyment in my company or anyone's for that matter because you think affection beyond closed doors is a sign of weakness. You feel as though you have no control over where you are or what you do and that makes you angry.”

Deacon stared at Drake, his mouth twitching in the corner slightly and he cleared his throat, “Yo-”

“I'm not wrong. You're full of shit.” Drake cut over him loudly and went back to his clothes, “Our lives will become a lot better if you just relax and let things play out. I have no plans of babysitting you until you decide to behave. If you continue to act in this manner, I will find a new vessel for La Magra and you will be nothing but dust.”

Decaon's mouth hung open slightly, “ . . . you would do that?”

“In a heartbeat, so to speak.” Drake growled, turning back to Deacon, “I can be a passionate lover, a powerful ally, and a satisfying companion but I will not beg and scrape to get you to behave. So, what is it to be? Shall you and I enjoy each other or shall I find your replacement?”

Frost blinked rapidly then looked away, working his jaw in silence for a moment, “Alright.”

“Alright, what?” Drake crossed his arms expectantly, eyebrow cocked.

“I'll . . . I'll behave.” Deacon muttered resignedly.

Drake smiled, walking up to Deacon to put his arms around the smaller vampire, “That's a good boy . . . I like it when you behave. Of course, if I have to tie you up again, I can.”

Deacon grimaced but didn't pull away, he cleared his throat and tilted his head back, “What if I tie you up this time?”

Drake's eyebrow rose again and he regarded Deacon suspiciously, “What reassurance do I have that you won't just tie me up then leave the room?”

“You won't.” Deacon shrugged, “Part of the fun, isn't it?”

“Not when it involves you.”

Deacon worked his jaw and sighed, “C'mon, trust me a little bit, alright? I'll even use the flogger you're so fond of.”

Drake could help the slight blush at the tips of his ears at the mental images his mind conjured, he smiled slightly, “If you give me something in return, perhaps I could trust you a little.”

“What do you want?” Deacon slipped out of Drake's embrace and headed to the big man's trunk full of his 'toy' collection.

“That safe word you talked about.”

Deacon's back stiffened slightly and he turned slightly and swished the flogger through the air idly, “Alright. What word?”

“I asked Danica about it and she said it has to be something I wouldn't yell in a fit of passion.” Drake shrugged and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, peering over Deacon's shoulder, “So I have to think of things I don't normally say when I'm cumming.”

Deacon chuckled, chucking the flogger onto the bed and pulling out some heavy chains and shackles, “Yeah, that about sums that up. So, what would you say if you were in pain or not having fun?”

Drake leaned back on his hands while Deacon crawled over and slid his hand up Drake's calf, lifting his leg to slide the shackle onto his ankle, locking it then moving to the other one,

“ . . . I was thinking something soft.” Drake shivered when Deacon clicked the second shackle closed on the big vampire's other ankle.

“Yeah?” Deacon shifted to stand and straddled Drake's thighs, leaning forward to reach for Drake's wrist with a pair of thick handcuffs.

“Mhm,” Drake put his hands together behind his back as Deacon slid the cuffs into place and locked them, “Something gentle . . . “

Deacon inclined his head and kissed Drake's neck over the pulse point of his carotid, “Something sweet maybe?”

Drake smiled, leaning forward to lick Deacon's earlobe, “Mm, yes . . . promise you won't laugh?”

Frost rolled his eyes a little then looked up, “Sure, I promise not to laugh at your safe word.”

“Marshmallow.”

Deacon had to bite his tongue to keep the snicker from escaping, “Uh-huh.”

“Good, you think it's silly.” Drake said flatly, looking up at the ceiling.

“Yup, but then I guess you won't say it until absolutely necessary, hm?” Deacon shook his head and pushed Drake over onto his back, “Wiggle your way up to the pillow.”

Drake snorted and did his best to inch his way backward to the pillows then watched with amusement as Deacon slipped the chains to hooks that hung from the ceiling, making Drake's back curl as his backside was lifted several inches off the bed.

“I thought you were going to- Ah!”

Deacon let the flogger fall back to his side before snapping it forward again against Drake's ass and thighs five times, watching with a satisfied smirk as the big vampire snarled and grit his fangs, but he didn't say the word and his leaking erection told Frost all he needed to know about how the rough treatment affected Drake.

“Too much?” Deacon asked teasingly, stroking the flogger's thongs over Drake's hairless balls.

“No.” Drake grinned, closing his eyes, “Hardly felt i- Ah! Fuck!”

Deacon shoved the handle further into Drake's asshole, leaning between the big man's raised legs, “I have never met someone who liked the sound of their own voice more than I love mine. You talk way too much.”

“Maybe it's to fill a void?” Drake muttered, focusing on breathing and keeping his muscles relaxed.

“Thought I just did that?” Deacon smirked and smacked Drake's flank, scooting around to kneel with his knees on either side of Drake's head, “Open up.”

Drake smirked and let his mouth drop open while he watched Deacon slowly undo his belt and slacks, his erection sliding out,

“No underpants? And you were upset when someone called you a whore?”

Deacon didn't answer, instead he pushed his cock against Drake's lips until the big vampire huffed and opened up for it. Deacon shoved forward, driving into Drake's mouth while leaning into him. His face pressed into Drake's thigh, fingers digging into the meat of the big vampire's ass. Drake growled and huffed around Deacon's cock, shifting his hips a bit until Deacon leaned back to glare at him,

“You want something?”

Drake grunted, twitching his hips.

Deacon smirked and ran a finger idly up the underside of Drake's erect cock, “You'll have to speak up if you- oh!”

Drake let his fangs slice little cuts along Deacon's prick again, his long tongue gathering up the tiny beads of blood and sealing the cuts before they could bleed too much before slicing into it again. Frost's knees shook slightly and he breathed out shakily, turning and sliding Drake's penis into his mouth and burying his nose into the big man's sac. Drake almost laughed with how easy it was to get Deacon to do what he wanted so long as the brunette's penis was involved.

Deacon groaned and stood up, shedding his pants and planting his feet on the mattress, leaning back unti lhe could grasp Drake's cock and push it into his ass, grunting with the effort. Drake watched hazily, his brow furrowed,

“You already prepped? Really?”

“Shut up.” Frost muttered, closing his eyes and breathing out.

“You know, if you let me down, this would be a lot easier for you.”

“I like you right where you a-are.” Frost swallowed thickly.

Drake groaned, arching his back to push into Deacon, he didn't last long, but that was alright with him, Deacon laid back down and pulled on the chains until Drake was hanging above the bed further, swinging slightly. Deacon grabbed Drake by the back of the neck and pulled him around so the big man could suck his cock for a bit before getting a face-full of cum.

Drake sighed with relief when Deacon let him down and undid the shackles and handcuffs. He flopped down bonelessly on the bed, chuckling,

“See? Wasn't that so much more fun then just fighting with me?”

“shut up.” Deacon mumbled, rolling over to curl into Drake's side, “I still hate you.”

“Of course you do, Snowflake. Of course you do.”

 


End file.
